


It's Still a Wonderful Life

by TSStewart2 (TSStewart)



Category: It's a Wonderful Life (1946)
Genre: Christmas, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-26
Updated: 2018-12-26
Packaged: 2019-09-28 00:36:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17172521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TSStewart/pseuds/TSStewart2
Summary: Join George Bailey as he embarks on fulfilling his dreams of travels, reflects on his life and loved ones and discovers dreams he never knew he had.





	1. Buffalo Girl

Buffalo Girl  
The cool wind bristled through the budding trees. Soft sobs from a mourning crowd muffled the birds chorus’- seasonal promises of new beginnings. Nearly everyone in Bedford falls was there - but that was expected. A Bailey loss, was a community loss. The whole town felt as if they had lost a piece of themselves.  
But none felt is as deeply as George Bailey. For the first time in a long time, George, was without an answer. Always ready to provide help, offer a solution, solve a problem, This time, however, it was different. This was something that couldn’t be fixed. It was something that couldn’t be changed. It was something that had to be accepted - regardless of what he thought.  
One by one, his neighbours, friends and family gave their condolences, leaving George to his thoughts. Though he tried, he couldn’t get his feet to move from their place. Knowing, as soon as he did, he had to live the rest of his days in his new reality- one without his beloved Mary.  
Only once before had he felt such anguish - many years ago on Christmas Eve, gripping the rail of the bridge contemplating his life.  
"Mary.” George whispered mournfully. What will we do without her?”  
Pete Jr’s hand clasped George’s back. Tears flowing uncontrollably, his children’s embraces were the only thing stopping him from collapsing. Looking at his two beautiful daughters, who resembled Mary so greatly in appearance and mannerism, reminded George of earlier days of life. Toting kids on their hips, while doing as much as they could in the businesses and community, smiles on their faces all the while.  
Hugging his dad again, Pete said, “You know she’s in a better place, and no longer in pain.”  
“I know Pete, I know.” Wiping his tears.  
Tommy reached into his pocket and handed his dad an envelope. Looking at his father, he noticed a strange concoction of age and youth. Creased lines and grey hair, a slowing body, but his eyes - holding the love of his youth- they sustained him in time. He hoped to have that look one day.  
Looking at the envelope, George’s eyes asked the question his words could not.  
“You know mom, she always did have the answers.” Zuzu shrugged, laughing softly, contemplating the impact and love of the woman they laid to rest.  
“We’re going to be at the boarding house Pops, when you’re ready- I know people want to give you their respects.” Tommy said quietly.  
“I’ll come now..” George began to say,  
“When you’re ready, Daddy, no one is rushing you. Uncle Marty has taken care of everything.” Said Jeanie  
“This is a time you should actually think about yourself.” Pete said, giving his dad one more hug. George watched the four of them walking away, grateful they all remained friends in their adult years.  
Walking over to a bench he opened the envelope, pulling out tickets- all with George Bailey scrolled across the top. Train tickets, plane tickets and ship tickets, and… a letter, His eyes filling with tears, he clutched. the letter to his chest.  
Inhaling deeply, he looked down at the letter. His fresh tears smearing the ink on the parchment, joining Mary’s dried ones, the one last bit of Mary left behind.  
My Dearest George,  
These last days I was able to remain on this earth, with you, our children and our grandbabies. I am so, so grateful for.  
I heard you talking to Zuzu, on one of my bad days, wishing away my pain. Don’t you ever doubt that letting me wait until my days were over wasn’t worth it.  
Rest assured, my darling, that the joy, and the peace during those days was so much greater than any pain. I was collecting all the moments, all of the words all of the silence of my loved ones.  
You spent your whole life sacrificing for others. My dreams came true through you, now I want your dreams to come true.  
Do you want to know what the best sound in the world is? Anchor chains, plane motors & train whistles.  
Go George. Go and see the world that you have waited so patiently to see. Go and see the buildings and the sky scrapers and bridges. Be inspired. Eat your coconut!  
Go shoot the works! A whole week in New York. A whole week in Bermuda. The highest hotels - the oldest champagne - the richest caviar - the hottest music. And the prettiest wife…well she’ll be watching you from a far, but, if you listen closely you’ll hear her in your heart.  
I want you to breath in the air from all around the world. I want you to walk the beaches of the coasts. I want you to go to a place you have never thought of going, and all the ones you did. Don’t leave one rock unturned. Its all in order. I have purchased the tickets to get you on your way.  
It’s your turn, now George. I only wish you didn’t have to wait so long. But know, that in your waiting you have done so much good. You have made the world a better place. And that sure is something. I am so happy that I was able to spend my life at your side.  
I told you that I’d love you until the day I die.  
Go now, see the world, live your dreams. Clarence and I will be watching.  
Until we meet again,  
Your Buffalo Girl  
~  
George read Mary’s letter over and over. He very much so wanted to stay in this moment so he didn’t have to move on, but there were two more stops he wanted to make before he headed to the reception so, reluctantly George headed on his way.  
Standing over the first grave stone, he smiled, “Well Mr. Gower, You’ve probably already heard, but I think that old suitcase might actually get used. I really do think I won a million dollars, it was camouflaged as Mary Hatch. Take care of her for me, will ya.”  
A few minutes later he came to two more stones. “Ma, Pop.” He brought his fist to his mouth, closing his eyes trying to control the tears.  
“Thank you. I don’t know if I told you enough - what you’ve given me. Thank you for that old Building and Loan. Thank you for cooping me up in that shabby little office. It was there that I learned to live. You had a talent, pop, a wisdom, that I could never have learned in college or travelling. Never. And ma - well you always knew me better than myself- if it weren’t for you, I’d never have gone to see Mary that night. And well…she really was someone that had answers, she really was.”  
~  
Buffalo Girl playing softly in the background, George sat down on the bed. The old picture of him lassoing the moon in catching his eye, “If only I was still so full of confidence that I thought I could lasso the moon.”  
“Thank you Mr. Gower.” George said, brushing his thumb over his engraved name, clicking his suitcase shut. Laying Mary to rest was difficult, but first the first time, he realized that laying someone to rest, meant allowing everyone else to say their goodbyes, so that the ones closest to the deceased could begin the journey to their goodbye.  
The horn of a taxi rose from the street.  
“Well, I better get going. You’ll be coming with me, right Mary?” Brushing his hand over her picture.  
George, headed down the stairs, wiggling the top knob on the banister with a smile. The phone started ringing, pausing, an old familiar feeling came over him.  
“George let’s not stop, let’s go.” The sound of Mary’s youthful, vibrant voice filled his memory, “OK, Mary, we’ll go. This time, we’ll go.” with a deep breath he opened the door - the ringing phone disappearing behind him.


	2. My Big Brother George

Chapter 2: My Big Brother George

“Hey, George!” Ernie said opening the trunk. “Where am I taking you today?”   
“To the train station” Ernie grab his suitcase putting it in the back of the taxi.  
“The train station, where are you off to?”   
“I’m going to start at New York, and then from there, well, who knows."  
“Shooting the works? Who would have thought! You’re finally going. Good for you!” Ernie said,  
“It was Mary.” George said. “She put it together with the kids before she passed.”   
“Mary.” Ernie smiled, climbing into the cab. “What a girl she was. You’re a lucky man George, to have a wife like that.”  
“I know, Ern, I know.” George said, “Bedford falls will miss you. But its in good hands George, that boy you have. He is quite something.”  
“Yah, Pete has the heart of his grandfather and the passion of his mother.” George laughed. “I practically had to drag him off to college to get him out of here.”  
“And it did him and Bedford falls a load of good. He has ensured the maintenance of all the old buildings, and brought in the new businesses. Whoever donated that money would be proud. I sure am to call Bedford Falls home.   
“There aren’t many like it left, that’s for sure.” George nodded.   
The tourists love it, and boy does you Janie ever have the touch with them. She’s like the mother hen of tourists, just scoops them up in that old Ma Bailey Boarding house and treats them like her own.” beep beep “Hey Bert! Guess where I’m going?” Ernie hung out the window.  
Bert pulled up next to Ernie  
“Taking George to the train station - he’s finally going!”   
“What do you say!” Getting out of his car, Bert gave George a hearty handshake. “Good for you Georgie - Good for you! You’ll have to get some more posters to put on the wall of that old house of yours! Hey! We should go for a send off drink- do you have time? Martini would love to send you off.”  
“I suppose we could go for a quick one.” George agreed.  
************  
“Well, look what the cat drug in!” The bells on the door rang, “To what do I owe such an unexpected pleasure?”  
“We’re here to celebrate!” Said Ernie, “George is going see the world! Just like he always planned to do Mary arranged everything for him to go traveling.”  
“You don’t say! What a girl! A round on the house then!”  
Martini brought over four drinks, the old bar filled with laughter of memories decades old.  
“What a night that was. I’ll never forget it - when Mr. Welch punched you right in the kisser.” Martini said, shaking his head.   
Nodding slowly, George took a drink,” Unsure were the conversation was going, people seldom brought up that night.   
“That was something.” Said Martini, “But you know what was always more impressive to me? Was how you never lost that…that…that joy, that happiness that filled your house that night. How did you keep it? How did you hold onto it? Even after all these years?” Martini asked.   
“An old friend once said to me, “Each man’s life touches so many other lives.” I began believing that, living it. Whenever I began to feel the way I felt that night - when the hopelessness, the discontentment, the discouragement crept in, I would think of that old friend, and who I would be leaving.   
And then I thought, about what my father used to say, “All you can take with you is that which you've given away. - and I would think about all the people who’s life I could touch to make them better. True contentment can only come from serving others, from giving yourself a away.  
It wasn’t always easy, sometimes I had to fight for it. I became a warrior. A warrior for contentment, and then every once in a while, happiness would visit, and sometimes sadness, but always contentment.”  
“To contentment” Martini raised his glass.  
“To Contentment” the three echoed - clinking their glasses, easing into a comfortable, contemplative silence..  
“And how’s Harry? Did he stay long after the funeral?” Asked Bert, breaking the silence.   
“No, not long. He had to get back. He’s good, doing well. Wife and kids are good.”   
“And the business?” Earnie said cautiously.   
“It’s holding on.” George nodded. “Definitely has some problems right now, which is of course stressful on the family, but, he’ll hold on.”   
The three exchanged looks.  
“What?”  
“We saw him at the funeral, something’s not right.” Said Bert.  
“Well, I did try to call him to tell him I was leaving, but, I couldn’t get a hold of him.” Said George. “Well even if something is wrong, he’s strong, he’ll….”  
“He isn’t you George.” Martini added.   
“He doesn’t have the grit, the perseverance to make it through.” Said Ernie.  
“Doesn’t have the grit?” Said George, “What do you mean doesn’t have the grit? Why he’s a decorated war hero, and an educated football star!”  
“He’s nothing without you!” Said Bert.  
“Now, that’s just not true.” Objected George. “Look, he, he, got married without us..”  
“Yah, I’ve always wondered that. Why would he have gotten married without you or his Ma with him? Why didn’t he introduce you first? And then knowing he was going to go to come back to the Building and Loan, and not say anything?” Bert put his hands up, “Look, thats not to say its any of our business, but what I am saying is that something was off.”  
“He himself, said you were the richest man alive, on that night. So he recognized it too. When you get in a pinch call George- he knows!” Said Ernie.   
George was still not convinced.   
Martini said, “He almost died, you saved him!”  
“You paid for his school, with money that you worked hard to earn.” Said Bert.  
“Where he met his wife, and got his job.” Said Ernie,  
“Why, your cousin Tilly, told me when he called you when he won the award, he even reversed the phone charges!” Added Bert.  
“Well, whats wrong with all of that?” Asked George.  
“Nothing, nothing at all, but what all that says, what Harry’s life ultimately says is, “I need my big brother.” Said Martini. “Look, George, I didn’t bring that up to discourage you, from the trip, it’s just, we care about Harry too.”  
George nodded, thinking back to the unanswered ringing phone. “Can I use your phone?”   
“Sure, sure George go right ahead.”  
“Hello, Harry? Harry its George. I’m ok, yes, everything is fine. I just wanted to tell you that Mary she’s….George paused. Bert, Ernie and Martini watched as that old familiar look came across George’s face - compassion, empathy, sympathy, and they waited. There was a problem, and George never left a problem unsolved.   
George took a deep breath, closing his fist against the wall, resting his head on it.“….I’m really sorry to hear that Harry. Real sorry.” George paused again. “I wish…I wish there was something I could do. I , But, Mary, she put together a trip for me, before she died, and I think I should…I need to go. I’m leaving today. I wish I could stay to help you, but I promise I’ll call you along the way. How long? I’m not sure, a few months, at least. But the kids, they will be looking after the house, so if you need a place to stay for a while, just call one of them….OK, I love you Harry, and I’ll be thinking about you. You take care now. It will all work out. I’ll talk to you soon.” He hung up the phone.  
A breath of relief rippled over the table.  
“Business is struggling, his marriage is worse.” George sat back at the table. “He was glad to talk to me, to hear from me, to get it off his chest. I wish I could stay, maybe I should…but…”. George looked at his friends faces, “Its just I hate to think of him alone….”   
“He wont be alone.” Nodded Bert.   
“He will be fine until you get back, we will make sure.” Martini promised.   
“You’re no good to him, if you’re not whole. Go and get your goodbye’s figured out. Mary deserves that much, you deserve that much.” Ernie smiled, raising his glass once more.   
Holding back the tears, George nodded. “Well, best get going then.” Shaking hands and clasping backs with his old friends, he was ever so grateful he took the time with them.


	3. Train Whistles

Chapter 3: Train Whistles

The train whistle filled the air. A strange sensation puffed through George- he was the traveller today. The one leaving, the one going on an adventure.  
”Hey Georgie Porgie where are you off to?” Violet Bick’s voice filled the air.  
“Hello Violet.” George said, exchanging a hug.  
“Mary, she put together a trip for me, before she passed, so - I’m leaving today.  
“No send off party?” Violet asked.  
“No…I…figured…”  
“I understand.” Violet smiled, nodding “Mary a heart of gold that girl. Tenacious and smart too. You made a good choice in her.”  
“Yes, she really was. She really was. How’s your gang doing?”  
“They’re great, never thought I would settle down, but when you and Sam brought in all that new work - well - there was bound to be someone who could domestic me. As much as I could be domesticated anyways! She winked.  
“How’s business?” George asked   
“Oh, its booming. Doing really great. I'm just picking up another order for the store, all the way from Paris.”   
“No one could bring better style into this one horse town, that’s for sure.” Smiled George.   
Violet looked at him in thought, hands on her hips. “Hey, wait a minute would you George?” Opening a few boxes, she handed George a new suit, hat, shoes and belt.  
“Oh, I couldn’t Violet,” George shook his head, handing the attire back.   
“I wont take no for an answer!” Violet said. “Why, if it weren’t for you,” her eyes filling with tears. “Well, we don’t need to talk about who I’d be without you. Now you take this, and go on some nice fancy dinners, and smooze with the best of them will ya?” She winked, kissing him on the cheek.   
“ALL ABOARD!” The conductor called.  
“Well, I better get going,” said George, “Thank you violet. “  
Violet turned as George was heading out, ““Hey, George - thank you, for always believing in me.”  
*************************************  
Watching the Bedford falls sign disappearing from his view, George’s heart pounded, it was indescribable finally doing something he had dreamt about for so long.   
A new and unidentifiable feeling crept over him.  
“Excuse me! EXCUSE ME!”   
“Pardon me? Sorry, thats my bad ear.” George looked up to a plump lady, dressed in black fur, with a scowl of impatience across her face.   
I said, you’re in my seat.  
“Oh! Well! Sorry about that!” George got up and shuffled to the seat across where he was sitting.   
“What happened?”  
“What’s that?” George said.   
“To your ear?”  
“Oh, my brother fell into a pond, when we were…”  
“Disgusting isn’t it?” The lady interrupted, completely ignoring George. “All those factories clogging up the landscape.”   
Looking at the smoke stacks pass by, warmth, instead of disgust filled him.  
“Those factories, do clog up the open landscape, yes,” George agreed.  
“See, I’m so glad you agree with me.” The lady began.  
“But” George held his hands up slowing her, “If you look past the ugliness, they also give people a purpose, a home, food on the table. And a world filled with people without a purpose, well I’d take ugly over that any day.”   
“Pish-posh! The only people who say things like that, are the ones making money - so you must have made lots of money off of them.  
“Well, a bit, to be honest. I live a few towns back, and my friend - Sam Wainwright, he started a plastics company in an old abandoned factory- but it brought a lot of work to the town. He came, and then another, and another. We were able to build new businesses, and people moved into town. The schools got better, the shopping. It was really swell. Especially for the people who had worked to get ahead for so long.”  
“Swell,” she raised a judgmental eyebrow at him. “and I suppose that you were a participant then, in building all of those things?”  
“Well, yes,” George said. “My entire family actually. I always had a passion for building things, I just always thought I had to go far to do it. It was quite a blessing to have the new opportunities come to me, and my children - they just had such talent in business, economics, relating to people, I have never had prouder moments than watching my children do what they were meant to do.”   
“And were you involved in the startup of these companies? Or did you gather that from the hardworking townsfolk, promising them greatness, only to have them work there?”  
George smiled at the miserable old thing, wondering what had happened to her that made her so pessimistic and miserable. “No, we actually received a large sum of money donated in trust to the company my father started, the Building and Loan, intended for the use to prosper our town. From there, we started a community advisory committee, and we put that money to good use. We restored and maintained the town, and brought in new jobs. Many people who were living on tight budgets, were able to raise their standard of living. And then that went back into the economy, and so on.”  
“Well, isn’t that nice that you live in the perfect little town where perfect things happen.” She said cynically.   
“Now, I never said that,” said George, as politely his patience waining, “We have a town full of hardworking people who take pride in every avenue of their lives. And that’s created a sense of value, a sense of worth, a purpose. A home. Which, for us has come from some of those factories. That’s all I’m trying to say.   
She raised her eye at him. “Well, to be born in such a place, must have been wonderful. Not everyone is so fortunate. To have parents like you leaving a successful business, and being part of a community like that”   
“Well, yes, you’re right, not everyone is fortunate enough to grow up in a town like Bedford Falls. We can agree on that.”   
“No, they’re not.” In that moment, George had a flicker of understanding what that indescribable feeling was when he left. Homesickness? Impossible! He laughed to himself, “for Bedford Falls? Already? What do you think of that, Mary?”  
“What was that? The lady said  
“Nothing.vEnjoy your ride,” Said George, returning to his window so he could appreciate his view.


	4. Airplane Motors

“Get out of my way - doesn’t anyone have respect for the elderly anymore?” Quickly closing his over head carriage George took his seat.  
“Could you imagine- having to deal with the likes of him?” Grumbled a middle aged man next to him.   
“I can, actually.” George smiling as the young woman and man who were trying their best to fix the old mans problem.  
“Worst thing is, there ain’t no changing someone as old as him.” The man said.  
Watching the commotion, George’s memory drifted in time.   
“George! George! Come see! Its pandemonium across the street!   
George came whistling from his office, afresh with a new year, new promises and new hopes.   
His friends had come and saved him from grave trouble replacing the money that Uncle Billy lost, he had a new outlook on life. He joined his uncle Billy and cousin Tilly at the window.  
“Why- what are they doing over there at Old Man Potter's?” George asked.  
“They’re arresting him! They’re arresting him!” Yelled cousin Tilly bursting through the front doors.   
Turning back to the window, they watched a half dozen police, pushing Potter’s wheel chair out of the bank while trying to control the boisterous, loud crowd.  
When the police shut the car door, applause broke out up and down the street.  
“Why it’s a Christmas Miracle! A Christmas Miracle!” Uncle Billy cried, “Life’s finally caught up to him!”   
“What could he have done?” Asked George.  
“Who cares! Uncle Billy danced! He’s gone! He’s outta here! We need to celebrate! We need to Celebrate!” He said, running back to his office.   
Uncle billy came back a bottle of scotch and two glasses in his hands.   
George was putting on his hat and coat.  
“Where are you going?” Uncle Billy stood disappointed and confused.  
“I’m going to see what has happened.” Said George.  
“Bah! Leave the old bugger! You know he’s had it coming.”   
Ignoring him, George ran out of the building and loan, across the road  
“Did you hear?”  
“What a scandal! All that money in the world, and he’s arrested for stealing!”   
“Why, I bet he’s been stealing all along!”   
“Did you see George did you see? Old man potter been taken away - stealing money! He did!"   
“Money?” George said confused. “What money?”   
“Who cares! He’s gone, he’s gone.” Pushing through the crowd George entered into Potters office.   
“What’s happened?” George demanded.   
“He stole the money George, the Eight thousand dollars- your eight thousand dollars. The tellers, they put it together. That your money missing and then all of the sudden he deposited that same amount. Can you imagine? Making such a careless mistake after all these years? Why, its almost as if he WANTED to get caught!”  
“I don’t….I don’t understand.” Running his hand through his hair. “Your uncle billy- he put the money in the paper and then handed the paper to Potter, and Potter had me roll him into the office- I thought something was up, but I never put it together. It’s quite something.” Said Potter’s assistant.   
“So what are they going to do?” Asked George.   
“Why do you care? You said so yourself he’s a warped frustrated old man.”  
“It’s not right, wheeling off an old man like that- humiliating him like that. He may be a criminal yes, rude, mean, cold hearted- but, but he’s still a human. And that’s gotta count for something.”  
***********************  
   
“What are they going to do to him?” George thought aloud.  
Admiring him in the moonlight, Mary reached over and stroked his head, “Mr. Potter stole your money, almost drove you to end your life and here you are worried about him while the whole town’s out celebrating.”  
“Its just, I know it doesn’t make any sense, and justice should be done, but, what good will it be if he just comes out worse. He’s a miserable old man, with a sick demented old soul - yes, yes, his deals have been shady, maybe, maybe he is getting what he deserves. Its just, how do we help someone who’s greatest enemy is themselves?”  
“I don’t know the answers to those questions, George. But, I know someone who does.”  
********************************  
“What are you doing here? Coming to gloat are you?” Mr Potter sat staring out a window in the detention centre.   
“No, Mr Potter. I’m not.”  
“Well you read the papers didn’t you? Hot off the press- Potter Convicted Felon. I suppose the whole towns celebrating! What will they say about you now? Coming around the likes of me?”  
“I don’t care what they say, Mr. Potter. I just wanted to make sure you’re ok.”  
“That I’m ok?” Mr. Potter spat. “Why? What’s it to you?”  
“Whats it to me? You’re a human being aren’t you? Good, bad or indifferent? And every human being should have someone to make sure they’re ok.”  
“I’ve lived most of my life without someone around me, I’m not going to start now! You’ve got your money back and then some now justice was served. I’m locked up, no longer competition. You should be happy! Not coming around here to bothering me! Now leave me alone!”   
George nodded and turned to walk away. “I just figured since it was my money that you stole, that you would tell me what happen? I didn’t ask during the trial because, well, I thought you were humiliated enough.”  
“You worry about your feelings and I’ll worry about mine!” Yelled Mr. Potter. “I don’t need you coming in here, or out there, or anywhere for that matter, trying to compensate for me! I refuse to become a miserable little clerk crawling around on my hands and knees for help. I have enough money to get the best lawyers - you wait and see, I will be set free- and those tellers who called me in - they will pay!”  
George stopped in the doorway. “Ok, Mr. Potter. Ok. I didn’t come in here looking for a fight, just an explanation, and then I thought maybe…”  
“Maybe what? And apology?”  
“No,” George shook his head, “I don’t need an apology either, I just thought perhaps you’d like a friend. I can’t imagine what it would be like to be up here all alone.”  
Mr. Potter stared out the window, for the first time, without response.  
***********************  
“Back again, are you?”  
“Mr. Potter, the nurses say you’re not eating, not talking.”   
“What do you care? Just means I’ll be leaving this earth all the sooner.” Mr. Potter grunted at George. “What did they call you for anyway?”  
“Because I’m only one who’s come to see you”  
Mr. Potter only grunted in response.   
“I heard, some more of your businesses were sold.” George said sitting in a chair.  
“To you’re pleasure I’m sure.” Spat Mr. Potter.  
“No, it’s not. I can’t imagine what it must be like to watch what you worked so hard for dismantle itself one by one.”  
“You wouldn’t know anything about it.” Snapped Mr. Potter. “Why you and your father and that run down Building and Loan wouldn’t know the first thing about,…about..”Mr. Potter started coughing, George went over and pat his back and got him a glass of water.   
“Why do you keep coming back here?” Mr. Potter asked. “Just leave me to my last days and get on with things.”  
“I wish I could do that, Mr. Potter. I truly wish I could, its just, it ails me, somewhere deep inside to know that your off in some room rotting away like a forgotten criminal.”  
“Thats what I am!” Harped Mr. Potter.  
“You may have been convicted of a crime, and a criminal at that, but you’re not forgotten. Not by me anyway.”   
Mr. Potter turned his head staring out the window.   
Standing silently in the doorway, George sensed a sudden urge to ask one more question.“Mr. Potter- what was your childhood like?”   
Mr Potter gave George a look like he had never seen before in his lifetime. The genuine kindness of George’s words demolished a lifetime of walls that Mr. Potter built around himself. In a moment, five words bound up a lifetime of pain and like a heap of burning rocks, melted away icicles on an old miserable heart.   
“Why would you ask that?” His voice a softer more broken.  
"I just realized I’ve known you almost my entire life but don’t know much anything about you.”  
Mr. Potter looked at him surrendering to Georges sincerity “You know, if you had ask me that question a few weeks ago, I would have had a very different answer for you. But I’ve been sitting here thinking, and if you tell one single soul outside of this room what I’m about to tell you-“  
“I wont Mr. Potter, I wont, don’t worry. I wouldn’t want to ruin your reputation.” Promised George.   
“If you had asked me that a few days ago, I would have given you the same story as every other adult brazened by their childhood. A child repeatedly disappointed by their parents, other adults and life in general. A boy, with no friends, left to fight their way through the world. A boy without a “someone” as you put it.  
But, that would give me little responsibility for the man who sits here before you. So I’ll spare you all of that.  
Your father let me on his board of directors because he thought it would soften our relationship - and therefor the business between us. But, all it did was anger me somewhere deep inside and worsen my hatred for him.   
And so I did everything I could to double cross him, to stay ahead of him and everyone for that matter at all costs.   
The first years weren’t what childhood should be - no - but everyone has woes, sorrows, strife, complaints, needless bruises and bloodshot eyes.  
But pain is not what separates us, or defines us. Its what we do with the pain that defines us, separates us.   
Because- here’s the truth George, your father’s life had woes, and sorrows, and all that as well - everyone’s dose. But the difference between your father and I was that I chose to keep all those pains of the past in front of me, and they blurred my perspective of the world around me. Your father, however, chose to put all of the pains of the past behind him, and they made him stronger.  
Don’t feel sorry for me George Bailey, I am getting what I deserve - what I wanted most of my life - alone, here in seclusion. Alone in my thoughts. The day I was arrested, as humiliating as it was, I was so relieved- finally, -finally I was beaten, they put me away and I wasn’t able to hurt anyone anymore.  
“But Mr. Potter, to not eat, and your arthritis is..”  
“Is the physical result of what I have allowed my life to become. Debilitating. Debilitating arthritis because of a debilitating soul.   
George smiled, hearing the words of his father Potter’s soul is sick. And for the first time, he saw a glimmer of his father in Mr. Potter.   
“Maybe you are getting what you think deserve, but do you want to know what I think? I think is everyone deserves a second chance, especially those who are willing to change.”   
*****************  
“Well what are you saying then George?” Ma Bailey said clearing up the dishes.  
“I’m not saying anything, only that Potter- even amidst his downfalls, he’s still a person.”   
“He’s getting worse, I hear.” Said Annie.  
“Yes, every time one of his business are sold, he falls a little more into despair. I’m not sure how long he will make it like this. Stuck in that cold, damp place, a lone - with nothing to occupy his mind. Nothing too…”  
“He can come here then.” Mrs. Bailey said.   
“What?” Mary, George and Annie said in unison.  
“That’s what you were hoping for wasn’t it?” Mrs. Bailey’s hands on her hips. “You don’t think I know how you think? A mother always knows.”  
"He can pay room and board and that will help us out.” Annie chimed in.   
“Are you sure?” George asked.  
“He can’t do any harm to us- he’s too old, and he isn’t going to live that much longer, “ Mrs. Bailey shrugged, “We have an obligation to take care of the elderly, even if it is Henry F. Potter needing the care. If you can get it in order George, Annie and I will do the rest.”  
“But I do want a pay raise!” Annie laughed.   
**************************  
“George, I’m happy you’re here.” George pulled a chair along side Mr. Potters bed.  
“How are you doing today? Mr. Potter.”  
“Oh, the same as every other day - dying.” He laughed. “It will make many people happy to see my name on a head stone.” Mr. Potter was in no better health, but since moving to the Bailey’s Boarding house, something had changed.   
“Now, Mr. Potter, you shouldn’t say such things.”  
“I've said it before and I’ll say it again, Most people don’t like me George. I don’t like them either- but I also.” Potter stopped. “For a very long time, I also didn’t like myself very much. These last few months with your family’s kindness, has helped me with that. Reach in that drawer George. There’s an envelope addressed to you.”  
George pulled it out, and started to read through the papers- “Its your will,” He flipped through the pages reading them, “Mr. Potter, you can’t, its too much, its..”  
“Its all I have.” Potter nodded.  
“Mr. Potter, I couldn’t…”  
“You can, and you will.”  
“I already got the money from before - that’s been enough…”  
“Yes, and what did you do with it! You set up college funds for your kids and let Mary do the house up, bought a new vehicle. All good things, but this money? Use it for yourself. Use it to build things like you always wanted to do, use it to travel places you’ve always wanted to go.”  
“But there’s so much Bedford Falls could …”  
“You’ve given Bedford falls enough!” Potter exclaimed. “But, since I knew that you’d say that,” - handing George another envelop. “I’ve made an alternative one, with a large portion of my estates going into the care of the Building and Loan to be used for whatever your board sees fit - as long as it enhances Bedford Falls. Which wont be a problem with the Bailey’s in charge. Even if that is letting the rabble move out of my slums.” Mr. Potter smiled.   
“Mr. Potter I don’t feel comfortable…”  
“All you can take with you is that which you've given away. I used to see that sign when I went into that old Building and Loan, never fully understanding it. Writing your father off for such foolery. But, I think I understand it now.   
Now, you hush up and fulfill a dying man’s request. All the times you went out of your way for this town - and this! This is what you’re going to fight me on? The money for your mother and Annie is well deserved, they took very good care of me. So I’m not changing that part of the original will.   
“And there’s, there’s one more thing I need to tell you.” Mr. Potter took a deep breath. “Its not something I’m proud of, in fact, it may be the lowest thing I have ever done.”  
“Ok, Mr. Potter.” George put the papers down as Mr. Potters expression changed.   
“I was there George.”  
“Where?” George leaned forward, grabbing Mr. Potter’s hand to steady him.   
“That night. When everyone brought you money, because……I…. “Mr. Potter began coughing.  
“Its ok, Mr. Potter, Its ok. You need to rest.”  
Moving his hand a top of George’s, “I need to tell you. I came there, to your house. I had the money. And I, I couldn’t go in. I sat there with the money in the envelope, counting your hundred dollar bills as you sang and celebrated friendship and love - things that were so foreign and unknown to me, and I just couldn’t go in.   
I couldn’t go in there, where so many good people were. Where so much happiness was. I was undeserving. I was tired of ruining things George. And even though I had the solution in my hand, I would have ruined something so much more meaningful, more wonderful if I had gone in.   
In the lowest moment of your life, there was so much more happiest than the highest moment of mine. How’s that for pathetic? I had already sold myself out so many times, what was another eight thousand dollars? Sam Wainwright forwarded up to twenty-thousand dollars. So I reasoned the problem was solved, and you were better off, to be left with the realization that you truly were the richest man in Bedford falls.”  
“Mr. Potter…” George began.  
Mr. Potter held his hand up, hushing George again, swallowing coarsely. “When you came to me that night, I had your missing money, the money that could have sent you to your death in my desk. I’m so sorry George. I know, it doesn’t mean much, but…that night, I told you, that you were worth more dead than alive. But the truth is, its me who is worth more dead than alive.  
George’s eyes filled with tears, his words choked.   
“Now, that’s not true, Mr. Potter. You shouldn’t say such things.” Mary placing her coat down, she moving over to Mr. Potters beside, rubbing George’s back. “I’m so glad we’ve had the chance to get to know you better.”  
“At least now my money will go to good use. Maybe that was the plan all along?” His breath ailing, looking at Mary.“For my heart to be closed so that all my money was kept stored up until now. Maybe, there’s a reason? Maybe something is coming along and all my greed and pride and cruelty can be used for good. I like to think that way, is it wrong for me to think that way?”   
“No, Mr. Potter.” Mary’s eyes glistened with tears. “I think you’re right, I think you’re right.”  
“George, I want you to know that, that. George, you’re worth more, than all I have ever been. You’re in every person in this town. Your in the walls and floors and roofs of their homes. You’re in their businesses. You’re in their pasts their presents and their futures. There is no money that can compare George.  
“Did you get that Annie?” Mr. Potter smirked.   
“I didn’t hear nothing. Just coming on in here to check your sheets, and you go on giving me such a hard time.” Annie ruffled his bedsheets. And went to walk out,  
“Stay.” Potter said.   
Annie stopped at the door, turning around patted Mr. Potter’s hand sitting in a chair, wiping her tears.   
“I should have rot away, thats what I deserved. But you - Mary, Mrs. Bailey, and Annie, you all saved me. For that George, I can’t thank you enough. Thank you for teaching me to live George. Thank you for giving me life. Stay with me, a while longer will you?”  
“Of course, Mr. Potter, of course we will.” George whispered.   
Mrs. Bailey joined them a little while later. And for the first time in his life, Henry F. Potter was surrounded by the warmth comfort of friends.”  
“Ladies and Gentlemen, please take your seats and fasten your seatbelts as we prepare for liftoff. The announcer brought George back to reality. Looking at the old man still grumbling, and then back at the man sitting next to him, “You never know, its never too late for people to change.”


	5. Anchor Chains

Chapter 5: Anchor Chains

George walked to the front of the ship. How different he felt the last time he looked over a rail into water, life, just like water can bring calmness and calamity,   
“Last stretch before home, Mary. You know, the irony of this whole journey is that I spent so much of my life wanting to get away from Bedford falls. To get out of that town and see the world. And when I finally did - I spent all of my time talking about it, and if I’m being honest, wanting to go back.   
I have met so many people on this journey; people searching for themselves, people sure of themselves, people somewhere in the middle lost in a bay of despondence, missing some fundamental link that it seems is just so automatic in a small town like Bedford falls.   
My father said that he figured we filled a fundamental urge at the building and loan. When I think back on these past few months, I don’t think that I was doing much different, than what I do at the Building and Loan.   
Along with fulfilling my lifelong dream of travelling, I was still helping people, I coaching people, I even loaned them money.   
I think that I’ve helped people to see those fundamental needs that they are missing - the ones my father spent his whole life helping people achieve - a roof over their head, walls around their loved ones and a fireplace to keep them warm, better put, a home.   
Mary, there are so many people in this world who are missing a home. A real home, not just the building, but a place filled with the love, and safety and consistency and surety. They’re missing what you so naturally gave me and our children and what they can now give our children because of your sacrifices.   
And so, what I think I’ve discovered, is that it’s not that places that fill your life up -, even though this world is truly beautiful, but really, what makes life beautiful, worth living, are the people, and knowing that amidst this world of mountains, valleys, seas of concrete seas of nature and seas of water, there is a place you can call home.   
I could travel the world and if I didn’t have a home with people in it to love, I would have nothing. And I could have never traveled past that Bedford falls sign, but because I have a home with people to love, I really do have everything.   
And if what my friend Clarence said was right - that no man is a failure who has friends, then I think in addition to that, there is no greater measure of a man than his home- even if their passports are filled.   
How’s that for a philosopher? Huh Mary? You wont believe it, but I think I’m ready to go home. I’m ever so homesick for Bedford falls.  
Clink, clink, clink, clink, clink, clink  
There goes the anchor. What an amazing sound, I’m so glad I got to hear it on this side of the world, but Mary, I’m just not so sure that it's one of the best sounds in the world anymore.  
*************************  
George stood at the end of the sidewalk of the old inn. The sweet smell smoke puffing up from the chimney filled Georges nose. The Christmas eve’s snow fell blanketing him in comfort.   
Walking up the path of the old inn, the soft crunch of the snow embracing his welcome, stopping to look at the window, Mary threw a wishing rock at all those years ago when it sat in desolated anticipation.   
He didn’t know that his life would turn out like it did when he walked a young eighteen year old girl home from a high school dance. But he was ever so grateful it had gone the way it did.   
The sound of sing-a-long Christmas carols filled his ears as he opened the front door.  
“Grandpa George! Grandpa George”  
Little Mary came running down the stairs leaping into his arms. “I missed you!”  
“Dad! You’re back so soon!” Janie, a mirror image of her mother came into the entrance. “Merry Christmas!”  
“I couldn’t miss Christmas Eve with you all - you’re mother wouldn’t have liked it! You did the house up…”  
“Just like mom would have.” Said Janie hugging him. “We couldn’t go the first Christmas without this old place decorated and filled with all she loved, your wife wouldn’t have liked it!”   
“Come on in the living room tell us all about your trip.” Said Zuzu.  
Looking around his living room, he suddenly didn’t want to talk about the buildings he saw, the people he met or the places he went, so sitting on the sofa, with his grandkids gathered around him he said, “Do you kids want to know the three best sounds in the world are?”   
“We know dad, we know,” said Tommy  
“Train whistles, airplane engine and anchor chains.” The room said in unison.   
George smiled, “Those are good sounds, but I think I have found better ones- the patter of children’s feet, the laughter of loved ones, and well, for me - the town bells began to ringing-  
“Grandpa George- listen, listen! The bells! Do you hear the bells?”  
“I do, little Mary, I do.” Smiled George. “Those bells, those bells are the best sound in the world, because they mean, I’m home.” He looked around the room at his and Mary’s children, grandchildren, friends and family.  
“To home!” Pete raised his glass.  
“To home,” The room echoed.  
“Grandpa George,” Little Mary said, taking Georges face in her tiny hands. “Teacher says, every time a bell rings, an angel gets her wings. Do you believe that? Grandpa George? Or do you think its hogwash?”  
“I believe it, my little Mary,” George said scooping her up in his arms. “I really do. Looking up he winked “Good job, Mary, good job. Merry Christmas.”


End file.
